My poor Shedder. My poor, poor Shedder.
You're getting the Reader's Digest version simply because I can't dwell on the subject for too long. It just hurts too much.
Despite the anti-inflammatory the vet gave her last week for the arthritis in her knees, the denervation to her legs was rapidly progressing. We figured we'd be lucky if she made it to autumn.
Well, anyway, on Friday night she seemed to be in a fair amount of distress. She hadn't eaten breakfast and her symptoms were similar to what she suffered when she ate stupid stuff like pine cones and Barbie clothes, so I wrongly assumed that she'd eaten something inedible and simply needed time for her stomach to work itself out by sunrise.
The thing is, her stomach distress was so bad she couldn't walk at all. She normally had difficulty moving during these episodes, but it was never this bad. I had to support her hind end to help her negotiate the yard to pee, an unsuccessful folly, but I tried. I called the vet's office before leaving for work and left a message requesting a first-thing appointment for Saturday morning.
The mind is a strange thing. I left work at 7:15 a.m., and as I turned onto our street and into the drive, I thought, "I'm coming home to a dead dog." When there was no "woof" as I put the key in the lock, I knew I wouldn't find her on the sofa where she shouldn't be. The house was too quiet. I found her in the kitchen instead.
When I talked with E. yesterday afternoon, she said it sounded like Bloat, and the symptoms she'd had a number of times over the last four or five years were probably the same thing, just not at a fatal level, perhaps a partial fold or turn of the stomach instead of a full twist. Aaagh. If it's possible to feel worse, I do. My brain is swirling with could've-should'ves.
God, this really hurts. I miss her big brown eyes and her soft fuzzy ears.
You're getting the Reader's Digest version simply because I can't dwell on the subject for too long. It just hurts too much.
Despite the anti-inflammatory the vet gave her last week for the arthritis in her knees, the denervation to her legs was rapidly progressing. We figured we'd be lucky if she made it to autumn.
Well, anyway, on Friday night she seemed to be in a fair amount of distress. She hadn't eaten breakfast and her symptoms were similar to what she suffered when she ate stupid stuff like pine cones and Barbie clothes, so I wrongly assumed that she'd eaten something inedible and simply needed time for her stomach to work itself out by sunrise.
The thing is, her stomach distress was so bad she couldn't walk at all. She normally had difficulty moving during these episodes, but it was never this bad. I had to support her hind end to help her negotiate the yard to pee, an unsuccessful folly, but I tried. I called the vet's office before leaving for work and left a message requesting a first-thing appointment for Saturday morning.
The mind is a strange thing. I left work at 7:15 a.m., and as I turned onto our street and into the drive, I thought, "I'm coming home to a dead dog." When there was no "woof" as I put the key in the lock, I knew I wouldn't find her on the sofa where she shouldn't be. The house was too quiet. I found her in the kitchen instead.
When I talked with E. yesterday afternoon, she said it sounded like Bloat, and the symptoms she'd had a number of times over the last four or five years were probably the same thing, just not at a fatal level, perhaps a partial fold or turn of the stomach instead of a full twist. Aaagh. If it's possible to feel worse, I do. My brain is swirling with could've-should'ves.
God, this really hurts. I miss her big brown eyes and her soft fuzzy ears.
7 comments:
Oh, I'm so sorry!
I'm so sorry I made you feel worse. Poor sweet girl. E
No, E., you didn't make me feel worse. You well know what a chronic second-guesser I am, and I'd mentally pummel myself with or without your information. I just feel bad that she'd suffered Bloat symptoms all along and I was too clueless to notice.
For what it's worth, when I talked to the Invisible Fence people on how to store the collar and shut down the fence, she said dogs can have Bloat symptoms without torsion/volvulus. Maybe that was Duchie's problem.
Then she offered to sell me a yellow lab puppy from her upcoming litter later this month. While I have no interest in a puppy at this time, It's nice to know she doesn't think I'm unworthy of future dog ownership.
I'm sorry again. I know that they can have symptoms without actual torsion. I thought I explained it that way. E
You probably did. I just didn't "get" it. These days I find I have to take copious notes on anything I don't understand or it goes in one ear and out the other. I didn't have pen or laptop at the ready when we had our discussion on the subject.
Thanks again. What would I do without you?
I am so, SO sorry!!! That just sucks. My husband is a vet and I certainly wouldn't have recognized bloat symptoms....don't beat yourself up!
i'm so,SO sorry!!!
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